


A Surprise in the Snow

by therealmnemo



Series: Fenris, Hawke, and their Little Bird [1]
Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types
Genre: Fluff, Kidfic, M/M, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-04
Updated: 2016-01-04
Packaged: 2018-05-11 15:05:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,347
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5630983
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/therealmnemo/pseuds/therealmnemo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fenris finds a surprise in the snow and wishes Hawke was with him more than ever.<br/>Hawke is finished with helping those who need him and sets off to find Fenris.</p><p>**Flufffff**</p><p>FenHawke Secret Santa gift for Verticonix (verticonix.tumblr.com)</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Surprise in the Snow

**Author's Note:**

> This was my FenHawke Secret Santa submission for Verticonix who asked for a Garret/Fenris gift. It's much later than intended, but I hope you like it!
> 
> Apologies for any errors :3
> 
> **updated with a sketch from beammetothemoon inspired by Papa Fenris and Beth :3**

Art by [beammetothemoon](http://beammetothemoon.tumblr.com/)

The snow was still falling when he found her huddled in the run down shack. Half of the room covered in snow from the holes in the roof. A fresh mound of snow next to a barrel in the corner settled ever so slightly in his peripheral, catching the dark tip of an ear peeking out.

 

The slavers he had been tracking fled the day before, he did not have high hopes for what he assumed was the body of a slave left behind. He swallowed back the wave of nausea and walked to uncover the poor soul, he couldn’t just leave them there.

 

The moment he stepped into the shack, the mound visibly shuddered and further uncovered the charge underneath. They were still alive. Without hesitation, Fenris’s markings came alive and he phased to the corner, materializing to his knees and pushing snow to the floor with purpose.

 

Underneath was a small elven girl, wrapped up in a thick fur blanket.  She started shuddering violently with the heady mixture of fear and severe cold. Her wide honey colored eyes settled on his glowing brands and her dark hands clung tighter to the blanket. Her long brown hair, tangled and carelessly knotted at the nape of her neck, was soaked through. Loose strands slicked against her face where small child-like features trembled, tinged with blue.

 

Fenris didn’t wait for introductions, didn’t stop to ask if she was capable to walk, he lifted the child bodily and started walking quickly back to his camp. She would not make it much longer exposed like this.

 

The child curled against his chest. _Out of desperation_ , he thought to himself, _surely not out of trust_. Fenris worried for the small shaking child, even out of the snow her shuddering would not let up. She looked nine, ten at most. He did not encounter children often since leaving Kirkwall and felt he couldn’t properly assess her age. He tightened his grip, hoping that holding her closer would transfer his body heat.

 

As Fenris approached the outer edge of his camp, he realized this whole… situation is not something he would have done ten years ago, before Hawke. He would not have walked into the shack to begin with, let alone would have seen she was too far gone and moved on to save himself, to stay one step ahead of Danarius. Hawke changed all that. There was more to life than simply surviving.

 

He reached the fire pit and sat the girl down gently. As soon as the weight completely left his arms, he lit once more and phased through his tent for his blankets and bedroll inside. Not even a minute passed and he was back at her side. He lifted her blanket off her shoulders and immediately wrapped her tight again. They left her without clothing. A child, left in the snow without clothing. _How is she alive?_

 

“I’m sorry child,” he whispered. “I have to get you warm, and this blanket is soaked.” He pointed to the tent. “I’m going to leave a tunic there, and these blankets,” he pointed the the fur bundle in his hand,”wrap them around yourself and call for me. I should have a fire going by then.”

The girl’s eyes wouldn’t meet his. He couldn’t tell if this was out of fear or shame. She finally stood, yet her body shook so hard he was afraid she’d fall back down. A small voice reached his ears. He stood up and leaned in close to her face. “What was that, child?”

 

She swallowed hard and tried again. “What do I call you, serah?”

 

“I am Fenris, what is your name little one?”

 

The small face flushed, “I have no name, ser- ah, Fenris.”

 

Fenris felt his stomach turn, thinking of the reasons an elven child would be so old and still be nameless. This was too much. Hawke should be here, he could calm this scared child, know the right words to say.

 

“I suppose we’ll figure that out, let me get that tunic.”

 

After laying out the tunic and furs, he held open the flap of the tent to let the girl walk in. He quickly sat down beside the fire pit to work on the fire. He pulled flint from his pack and started working on sparking the wood to life. Another pain bloomed in his chest. One more thing that would be easier if Hawke was here.

 

The fire finally ignited and its heat washed over Fenris’s face. He closed his eyes to center himself, to calm his emotions before the girl called out for his help.

 

\-----------

 

Hawke slowly turned around his mug of ale on the table. It was still more than half full, but he couldn’t bring himself to finish it off. The Hanged Man was empty of its normal clientele. Most were out with the Satinalia revelers, either singing in Hightown or picking their pockets.  Even Varric was out there, mingling as the Viscount.

 

 _Pretty sure that’s Aveline’s doing_ , he mused.

 

Hawke hoped to be back on the road a few months ago. After returning from Weisshaupt, he fell into helping Varric and Aveline rebuild the morale of Kirkwall. The Champion of Kirkwall had returned, no longer the pariah that escaped like a thief in the night.  

 

Two months turned into six. If he didn’t leave soon, that may well turn into seven. Tonight seemed like the best course of action. With everyone occupied with the celebrations, he could slip away without attention. He went over a list in his mind, punctuating each item by tapping a finger on the table.

 

 _Note left for Merrill with bag of coin for the Alienage_ , tap.

 _Note left for Aveline with list of shady characters lurking around Darktown_ , tap.

 _Note left for Carver with mother’s ring in a small box. A blessing for Merrill inside_ , tap.

 

“That just leaves Varric,” he whispers to his mug, and leaves the table to head to Varric’s rooms.

 

He spent the better part of a week trying to figure out how to say goodbye to Varric. A simple note wouldn’t do, the storyteller would write another book about him and revel in his creative license.  He stopped at Varric’s desk, laughed softly at the mountain of paper related to the office of the Viscount, and left a small piece of parchment pinned under a quill.

 

He pulled the hood of his cloak over his head and removed his staff from the weapon rack along the wall. Taking one last look around the Hanged Man, he sighed and walked out into the night.

 

\--------

 

Early into the morning, Varric finally entered his quarters. He made sure Daisy and Junior were safe in Merrill’s home before he returned.  His head was swimming from all the drink, but stopped when he realized a very prominent staff was missing from his weapon rack.  He searched around the rack, looked over the table, trying to find any sign that refuted what he knew to be true. He turned to approach his desk, seeing the small parchment out of place from the mess of useless documents cluttering it.

 

Varric chuckled to himself as he picked up the parchment. “Oh Broody, the story I’m going to write.”

 

The parchment simply read: _Gone Sweeping._

 

\---------

 

A month passed, and the girl was still in Fenris’s keeping. He meant to travel to the closest town outside the forest, find someone to take her in. The truth was he was lonely. The truth is that this small girl was often regarded as his daughter when he encountered traders.  

 

The first time caught him off guard. The thought seemed absurd until they took refuge at a local inn. When they reached the room, he went to the innkeeper to ask for a warm bath for her while he stayed at the bar. He ordered food from the waitress, more than was really necessary, but he was concerned for her health.  

 

When he returned to the room she was sitting on a chair in front of a mirror, staring at the reflection and running her fingers through her hair. He purchased what he thought was child-appropriate clothing in town, and she looked nothing like she did when she was found.

 

He walked up behind her and sat the food on the table in front of her.  

 

“Let me help you,” he offered, taking hold of her long brown hair. He looked in the mirror to search her face.  She caught his gaze in the mirror and nodded in assent. After catching her nod, he took in the whole reflection and froze.

 

 _She really could be my daughter._ The girl shared his earthy skin tone and even her features were similar. The only differences being her soft brown locks and honey-colored eyes.

 

He brushed her hair back from her face with his fingers since he didn’t carry a regular brush with him. As he braided the hair down her back, he thought about teaching her how to braid it herself. His mind drifted into other things he could teach her. How to cook, how to hunt, how to read.  

 

“Are you hurt, Fenris?” the girl asked, seeing the pained expression that had clouded his face in the mirror.

 

“No, little one. Just lost in my thoughts for a moment.” He had nothing to secure the braid he finished. He went to pull the leather holding his own back when he remembered the red leather on his wrist.  He slowly untied it and started to tie it around the braid in his other hand.

 

“Would you stay with me? It’s not safe for you to be in this area, even under the care of the locals.”

 

A smile spread across her face and she clapped her hands together in the first real show of child-like wonder since under his care.

 

“May I call you Beth?”

 

She turned away from the mirror and threw her small arms around Fenris. After recovering from the surprise, he returned the embrace. She pulled away and looked up into his face with those wide, golden eyes. “Thank you, Da.”

 

\--------

 

Hawke lay in bed staring at the ceiling of the inn. He had spent two months in the area that Varric’s contacts placed Fenris last. He travelled from inn to inn, asking after the white-haired elf with strange tattoos. He expected only one or two barkeeps to report seeing him. The past two weeks, almost every inn he stopped at had seen him. They also mentioned he was travelling with his daughter.

 

This confused him to no end, either Fenris kept this detail a secret for many years, or they were mistaken. Fenris spent many nights with Isabela in Kirkwall, but she would never have dealt with carrying a child. Hawke spent time with Isabela at Skyhold’s bar, and while reminiscing she never mentioned anything about Fenris or a child either.

 

Shock aside, this also meant he was getting closer. The excitement to see Fenris again dampened only by how he left in the first place.  When he left for the Inquisition, he left in much the same way he left Kirkwall two months ago.  He left in the middle of the night, with only a short note explaining the return of Corypheus, and how he would return when it was over.

 

That was over three years ago. He planned to leave after Adamant, but the Wardens in Weisshaupt needed to know what happened. After Weisshaupt, he meant to go directly to Fenris, but Varric needed him in Kirkwall, and that extended his absence by months. As much as he wanted to hold his elf again, he worried that Fenris moved on.

 

He curled up on his side and looked out the window at the moon, trying to let go of the worry and let sleep take him.

 

\--------------

 

Fenris and Beth walked over the snowy hillside, hoods drawn over their heads. Fenris tread as lightly as his boots would let him, stealing a glance at Beth, whose hands were wrapped around herself underneath her cloak. Her cloak also hid a small set of twin daggers Fenris purchased for the girl’s protection.

 

They fell into a routine. When they stopped to eat, he would spend an hour or so teaching her how to wield them, doing his best to remember the forms Isabela practiced in Lowtown. Before the sun set, they would make camp or find an inn for the night. Once settled, Fenris would take out the small collection of books he carried with him and read to her. Beth enjoyed learning both disciplines, eager to please the father figure that saved her life.

 

On this evening they were headed to an inn not far ahead. They passed a trader the day before who let them know the location of the small town on the hill. Beth sniffed at his side, lifting a small hand out of her cloak to wipe at her nose. The small hand already held a dagger, anticipating the day’s lesson. She noticed Fenris looking at her hand and quickly pulled it back into her cloak. “Sorry Da, I’m just too excited… and cold.” Her face flush as she grinned back at him.

 

He chuckled to himself, she reminded him almost daily of Hawke. This child, almost lost to the elements two months ago, was full of energy and eager to learn.  She threw herself enthusiastically into her lessons and peppered his ear with questions when they visited towns.

 

“We’re almost to town,” he lifted his head in the direction of the buildings, “Would you like to practice before we arrive?”

 

Beth’s grin broke out into a smile that lit up her eyes and dropped her pack to the ground. She pushed her cloak behind her shoulders and drew out her small daggers. Fenris laughed at his small charge and brandished his greatsword, falling into his battle stance.

 

She crouched low to the ground, eyeing her opponent just as he taught, and attacked.

 

\---------

 

Hawke spent most of the afternoon at the market stalls in the center of town. He restocked his potion supply and purchased some dried meats from a kind dwarf on the end near the inn. The sun started to dip towards the horizon, and that meant another night in town. He pulled a piece of the leathery snack and walked through the town.

 

The clatter of steel in the distance stopped him short. He looked back towards the market, finding nothing out of place. The crystal clear sounds through the winter sky indicated it was not inside but in the open air.  He ducked in the space between the inn and blacksmith and walked out to the edge of town. A small hooded figure with daggers fended off a larger opponent with a much larger weapon. Hawke drew within himself and pushed out a fireball from his hand before he realized it, and started to run.

 

\---------

 

Fenris felt it before he saw it. The pull of magic danced across his skin and set his markings alight. He phased in between Beth and the incoming fireball, sword ready to deflect the attack.  As he braced, another draw from the fade pulled behind his back. The fireball struck the air and dissipated about two feet from Fenris’s face.  He froze in place, a mage attacking and another at his back. An overwhelming flash of confusion disrupted his sense of survival. He let his guard down, he failed.

 

“Da, no! It’s alright!” Beth’s voice in his ear brought himself out of his stupor. She moved out in front of Fenris, gripping her daggers but holding one hand up to the man running in their direction, pushing her barrier out as far as she could. The man slowed briefly as Fenris’s marking lit through his cloak. She could see his face change from one of anger to relief, and start running once more. Beth remembered to breathe, letting the her barrier dissipate.

 

\--------

 

_Fenris._

 

Hawke’s heart stopped when taller figure lit up in defense. His fireball never reached them, as the small figure moved forward with a barrier. The relief he felt moved him to run again.  Every second not holding Fenris was a second too long. He passed the small figure, tackling the glowing elf to the ground.

 

“Fenris, please don’t kill me,” he pulled the elf’s face into his hands and placed a kiss on his forehead, “I know I was gone much longer than I had intended,” another kiss on Fenris’s nose, “but I’ve spent the past two months looking for you and all the innkeepers kept going on about this tattooed elf and his daughter..” at this he lifted off Fenris’s chest to look at the small girl looking over them.

 

“Hawke, you’re worse than a Mabari,” Fenris barked out as he shoved Hawke off his chest completely.

 

Hawke laughed, a deep laughter that shook his whole body. Tears welled up in his eyes as he addressed the confused girl still gripping her daggers.  “And who are you little poppet? It’s not everyday Fenris takes someone else on his journeys.”

 

The small girl threw him a grin and pulled her hood back. Her long brown braid hung near her waist, a red leather holding it together.  “I’m Beth, Da- Fenris saved my life.”

 

Hawke’s eyes snapped back to Fenris, the elf’s face red from either the cold air or the praise.

 

“We have a _lot_ to catch up on, Fenris.”

 

\--------

 

They spent most of the evening in the bar, trading stories over the hearty stew the barkeep served. Hawke kept most of his stories light; the weeks of torturing Cullen in Skyhold, catching up with Isabela in the Herald’s Rest, helping Varric and the rest of their friends back in Kirkwall. Fenris could tell there was more to be told, but didn’t press further.

 

Fenris told of a few slaver camps he cleared out, but mostly lingered on how Beth came to be at his side. When he told Hawke about teaching her to read, Beth grinned with pride and added to the story. Hawke returned the grin and reached across the table to take Fenris’s hand. Fenris felt his ears flush and smiled, squeezing Hawke’s hand in return.

 

\--------

 

Fenris yawned and stretched his arm around Beth in the chair they both occupied. She was reading from a storybook he purchased for her in the last village they stayed. He looked across the room to Hawke where he lay on the bed watching intently.  

 

“She looks like you.”

 

Fenris nodded, using his other hand to run his fingers through her hair. “That’s what they all say.”

 

He noticed that Beth stopped reading, her even breathing letting Fenris know that she fell asleep in his arms. “I couldn’t leave her Hawke, there are not many elves in this end of Thedas, and with all the slavers around..”

 

“Come back to Kirkwall with me.”

 

Fenris took a moment to gather Beth in his arms, setting her down on the bed next to the wall opposite their own. He pulled the blanket up to her chin and bent down to place a small kiss on her forehead. A small hand lifted to rub her eye and she whispered, “Night, Da,” before falling back into sleep once more.

 

Fenris walked back to bed he and Hawke would share tonight. He slid into the blankets and into Hawke’s arms. “Hawke, I will go anywhere. I will go to the ends of Thedas with you,” he whispered to his human love. “As long as you don’t leave me again, we do this together,”poking the man’s chest for emphasis. “Together with Beth.”

 

Hawke held Fenris tight, fighting sleep, and brushed his lips across the small tattooed dots on the elf’s forehead, “Of course, we’ll be together.” His lips curved into a smirk Fenris could feel, “There is the matter of Varric.. I may have left him a note about sweeping... “

 

Fenris groaned and playfully swatted the mage. “We can never go back there now.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> You can find me on tumblr!
> 
> main blog: [therealmnemo](http://therealmnemo.tumblr.com/) \- where I reblog practically anything but mostly Dragon Age  
> creative blog: [mnemosyneawrites](http://mnemosyneawrites.tumblr.com/) \- where all my fics, drabbles, drawings, and podfics live and take [prompts](http://mnemosyneawrites.tumblr.com/promptme)  
> anders and fenris blog: [teambluandangry](http://teamblueandangry.tumblr.com/) -Positive Art, Fanfiction, Headcanons, and Character Analysis for Fenris, Anders, and any ship they sail.  
> 


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